Is This Just Fantasy
by Seazu
Summary: AU/Smut/Crackship - Fem!Chuck and Dean W. Dean turns up at Charlie Shurley's door unexpectedly, but that's not the most surprising thing that happens for the writer.


**Shipping: **Fem!Chuck + Dean W

**Set: **Somewhere around series 4/5 - no Spoilers

**Comment: **I wrote this pretty early in the morning. There's also very little plot here - it's essentially just badly written/planned smut. AU Crack smut. Reviews are much appreciated though!

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><p>"Dean? You're not supposed to be here," she said with a deep frown. Charlie Shurley turned when the Hunter let himself in, and tried to remember some vision that had led to Dean Winchester standing in her living-room.<p>

"Yeah, well, I ain't much playin' by the rules anymore," he said, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile.

Charlie stood, pushing back her wild mess of brown curls and examining him, "is something wrong? Why are you here?" From her experience, it was never a good thing when the boys landed on her doorstep. Her hands found their way to her sides, crossing over her stomach as she stood awkwardly, waiting for some horrible news that would force her to do something she didn't want to. It was bad enough she had to see the horrors the Winchesters had to put up with, without having to experience them for herself first hand. "Where's Sam?" she asked after a moment, her brow furrowing a little deeper.

"We got separated," he said in his usual gruff tone, "we're kinda on the run, from something big-"

"yeah, I know… duh, but how did you end up here, _and _without your brother?"

"Like I said, we're not playing by the rules – but we split up, and… look I just need somewhere to hid out for the night, can I crash here?" he asked, looking exasperated, but his face softened slightly, "please."

Charlie bit her lip a little, more than anything she didn't want to be caught up in their crap – but that was basically part of her job description. However, at the same time she had always had a soft spot for the older Winchester brother, so she couldn't help but nod and say, "of course."

He let himself smile thankfully to the prophet, and nodded to her, but the gratitude seemed to last only a moment, as it often seemed to with him, "is there somewhere I can get washed up, I'm a little…" he tilted his head slightly to show her the bloody slice across his cheek by way of finishing the sentence. Charlie couldn't help but move the last few paces towards him and tilt his head towards her a little more so she could examine it more closely.

But then she remembered herself and jumped back, "sorry," she said quickly, hands folding across herself again in that natural defensive pose. Dean chuckled, smiling at her more fondly this time, maybe with a dash of cockiness, inclining his head to one side so he could look her up and down, causing the writer to blush a little and deepen into her awkward shyness. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but then he closed the gap between them again, moving one hand smoothly to her hip and the other tilting her head up towards his.

Charlie's insides lurched suddenly, and she managed to let out a shaky breath as she looked up into his half-lidded forest eyes, "D-dean-"

But he just shushed her softly and pressed his soft, plump lips against hers. There was that natural moment of shock and excitement as they lingered, and she felt her pale blue eyes slide shut for a moment, only opening again when he pulled away. Without even noticing her arms had fallen to her side; but despite herself, just a few moments after they had parted again, him waiting to see her reaction, her hands pressed into his solid chest and she reached onto her tip-toes to kiss him again.

She breathed in deeply, relishing his scent – a horrible mix of junk food, musk, sulphur and Axe. But to her it was something different, it was excitement and danger and so many things that made her body ripple with lust. Instinct began to overtake her usually nervous disposition, and Dean pulled her into him, forcing her lips apart with his tongue so he could explore her mouth so thoroughly.

He had always suspected Charlie had had a thing for him, he could tell from how jittery she got when she spoke to him, how much more clumsy she got – walking into tables knocking over one of her mountainous piles of crap; but even though he had come straight to her for somewhere to stay, he hadn't actually considered that this would happen. Still, his hands travelled down her back, following the path of her spine, and enjoying the little curve that led to her voluptuous behind. His hands curved around it as their lips moved against each other so feverishly, and she let out a little whine which caused him to smile into the kiss.

Continuing on the journey, his hands went lower, to her thighs, curving underneath them and pulling to spread her legs apart and pick her up. In reaction to this, Charlie wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling them tight together, her groin rubbing against his and a slight sigh came from him. Her arms slipped around his neck, one curving up to tousle in his hair as his kept to her thighs, tickling the soft skin, getting her that little bit more excited, even through the denim of her jeans.

His lips began to slip away from hers, kissing a trail into her cheek, following her jawline and down to her neck. Charlie's head rolled back, exposing it to him so fully. Her whole body was buzzing as they fell back to her desk, causing a clatter of bottles and books as he pushed her up on to it. But neither of them cared; Dean was too busy undoing her shirt and Charlie's fingers were working on his belt-buckle. Frustration took over as Charlie forcefully pulled the shirt over her head, and Dean switched to his belt, popping it open and pulling off his own shirt to reveal that perfectly toned chest and abs. She couldn't help but lean those few inches across and lick the anti-possession tattoo that was just oh-so-close to his nipple, and she had spent so long trying to decide how to best describe in her writing. Her hands pulled at his jeans desperately and he obediently pulled them off while she undid her own.

For a moment, Dean stood there, admiring the perfect body before him – her wild tousle of brown hair, smooth flawless skin, sweet curves… she really did herself no favours by cooping up in this shack and wearing unflattering clothes. But she sat there, impatiently on her table, breaths shallow and eyes filled with longing until he approached her again, like a lion stalking it's prey – unhindered by clothes, exposing himself to her so completely, the person who knew him better than he even did. His hands followed her curves of her sides, from her chest, running down to her hips – his finger caught on the elastic of her underwear as he slowly slipped them off. She compliantly straightened out her legs a little as he crouched to remove them completely, slowly. Finally slipping them over her ankles and letting them drop to the floor. She looked down curiously, to see – and feel – his hands slipping back up her legs, and head moving into her danger zone.

Charlie's head fell back, immediately panting as his tongue began to work on her. Work wonders that is. She was immediately panting and moaning, begging him for more. Her legs rested on his shoulders, the desk apparently just the perfect height for him to kneel before her, and while one of her hands propped her up, the other was entwined in his hair once again. He was an expert, his tongue licking and nuzzling so precisely as if it was created for the sole purpose of pleasuring her. He nibbled so gently on her clit, that she practically screamed out, but his hands pressed onto her thighs, pinning her legs to his shoulders and holding her down so that she couldn't squirm away. Her heart pounded in her chest, wave upon wave of relentless pleasure clashing down on her. Her pants turning into moans, as she felt herself start to drift away, like an out-of-body experience. She pulled his head by the hair, and pushed him deeper, his tongue inside her, wriggling and kissing her, making her feel things she had never felt before, and then when she was just on the edge, he pulled away, and she cried out.

But Dean's lips were suddenly on hers again, and she could taste her own bitterness on him, and she could feel his erection pressed against her as he forced her legs open wide, so hard just from pleasing her. He bit into her lip softly, dragging it as he pulled away, and then moving down to lick her nipple, hands moving across her like a torrent. She didn't know if she could hold on, she just wanted him inside her. Her hands ran down his back, pressing him closer. She could feel his cock pushing into her thigh and he let a little moan out from the sudden friction. Starting to thrust against her, gently and teasingly as he continued to play with her nipple, sucking and biting. There was no point in her even pretending she was quiet, Charlie was whining and moaning and even crying out in bursts of pain and pleasure as the master worked her body like he was some machine sent back in time to pleasure her.

He built up a rhythm, pushing his erection just a little bit away from her tingly bits. Making her breathing jerky and her whole body burn; and she just couldn't stand it. She needed Dean inside of her now, she was so ready that she was practically dripping wet. Her hands moved around him to find his cock, and he let out a guttural sound as she grasped it desperately. A smile flickered across her lips as she stroked his length, teasing him a little like he had teased her, and that low, vibrating growl of his came out again – so overpowering that he stopped everything he was doing, too distracted by the moment. And then she guided him inside her, pushing the tip of his cock into her, slipping so easily, and her mouth opened, not a sound coming out for what seemed like hours, but then a chesty-sigh finally broke free and she felt a wave of relief and absolute ecstasy leak through her body, rippling with static.

Dean instantly took over, pulling away from her breasts, his hands moving to Charlie's hips and taking a firm hold of her as he pushed deeper inside. Her hands moved back to his behind, pushing him into her further and further. They found a rhythm quickly, the wet clapping of their bodies pushing together echoing over the wood-panelled walls in the room, the slight creak of her desk as if it might give in to the force any second. He pushed into her again and again, and she couldn't stop herself from screaming such cliché phrases as, "yes", "harder", "faster", "_Dean_". Generic or not, they were all she could cry out through the moans and whines, from both of them. His eyes fell shut, and head tilted back, while her hands clawed and raked at his flesh, just wishing he was closer, deeper. She found herself leaning into him, biting on his collarbone, her teeth managing to pull free for long enough to relocate to the base of his neck. She sucked on the flesh so hard, as his body thrusted against hers, she sucked and nibbled until his flesh was raw and dark. Her hands dug into his back now, she was so close. So damn close.

She could barely stand it, she was reaching her peak, and he was relentless. She felt a sweat break, her moans caught in her throat, and she was falling, floating, flying. And she was there, with a noise so inhuman, breaking from her. But he didn't stop, he kept going, the friction of their bodies, and the pounding and the moaning…

He picked her up again, lips finding each other again, and they fell together to the floor. He pulled her legs up higher and they groaned in unison at the newfound pleasure at the deepness this angle permitted. And he pounded her hard, before she twisted and moved until she found herself on top, straddling him. Dragging her hair back, as his hands moved to her hips, holding her, as he looked up, getting a beautiful view of her beautiful body – straddling him. She set the pace this time. Slowing down so much that his breathing got desperate. Now he was close, and she could tease him.

She grinded hard and slow against him, making every movement count; and the tormented groans of pleasure he released made her shiver, but a look of slyness and desire overcame her as she continued on the assault. He couldn't even keep his eyes open now, head tilted back, body curving into her, trying desperately to take control again. She pressed her knees into the ground, and planted her hands into his chest, slowly lifting herself away from him, and he lurched suddenly at the unexpected move. She poised herself so just the tip of his cock tickled her entrance, so close, yet so far. He squirmed underneath her, beginning to beg and plead her to come back – and she held there as long as she could before sinking him back into her hard and deep.

Charlie let Dean roll her back onto the bottom, as he took control and began pushing himself deeper and harder into her than he had before. Crying out himself, moaning harder as he got so close to coming. Charlie was close to orgasm again now, just the sound of him made her so wet – the rough touch of his hands, the scratch of his stubble – and she wanted to come with him now. They were so distant from each other, yet so close, the two of them wrapped up in their impending orgasm.

And then he went quiet, and her breath caught in her throat as she felt him explode inside of her. So quickly afterwards she felt that same heat and electricity passing through her again. This time it was different, less forgiving and bittersweet, but still as heart-stopping. He rutted a few more times until he was too soft to stay inside her, and he fell to her side, panting.

Neither said anything, although Charlie could have sworn she heard his gruff chuckle, but she didn't ask him about it and he didn't offer an explanation of what exactly was so funny. After a few minutes she rolled onto her side, just managing to say, "that was…" and he just winked and nodded, still not able to speak. Which was rare for him.

When she had the strength, she stood, pulling his shirt on her to go to the kitchen for water.

And then she snapped awake.

Charlie rolled onto her side, again – although it wasn't again. She was on her couch, in her sitting room with a major headache. She was staring at the spot on the floor where she had just dreamt she had fucked Dean. Sitting up slowly she faced her desk across the room, stacked with books, papers and empty bottles

"I should really clear that," she said to herself with a flicker of a smile.


End file.
